Like any angst-ridden teenager, leaving home for college was indeed liberating. With a glorious sense of being emancipated, I packed my bag with an XXL army jacket, a pair of skinny jeans, a toothbrush and a mammoth-sized collection of books. My mother forewarned me of the homesickness I would experience once I stepped into my dorm. I ignored her pragmatic wisdom and reached Lahore via Daewoo. Imagine the joy of an American Pakistani kid like me, fascinated by the abundance of goats and buffaloes in rural Punjab, bursting with excitement about her academic future to a Daewoo hostess who was a little scared of my over-enthusiasm.

So I reached my hostel and met my warden. Now I may not acknowledge your observation yet but most Pakistani wardens usually expect their prospective residents to be promiscuous girls chewing bubblegum with their mouths open. Much to my warden’s surprise, not only did I show aversion to confectionary sweets but I also indulged in no flirting with the gatekeeper. After establishing an angelic impression, I was happily introduced to two other girls. One hailed from Sialkot while the other was an overtly-atavistic citizen of Gujranwala. I confused them by talking in my American accent and coarse Punjabi simultaneously. I even managed to offend the Sialkoti with a few crude jokes my relatives told me.

Long story short, I learned that there are types of roommates in local hostels. Here they are as I am, yet again, categorising another Pakistani assemblage.

Haleema Hijabi from Hafizabad:

She’ll inform you of the atonement that awaits you in the deepest pit of hell through direct and indirect modes of communication. She’ll make sure you realise how immoral you are for exchanging history notes with that geek in class. You are naive if you try befriending her because she doesn’t shake hands with Satanists. Oh and sorry, but sickening misdemeanors related to Haqooq-ul-Ibaad are not sinful deeds when she’s busy doing them. Like backbiting, lying, stealing, etc.

Paindu Parveen from Pakpattan:

Now that she’s away from her conservative home, she can rock her neon-coloured shalwar kameezes and render me blind. I encourage her to enhance her English vocabulary and I appreciate her receptiveness but why does she have to exert her efforts in sending romantic English text messages to Ilyas who is busy chatting with Haleema Hijabi, who once told me that flirting is haraam? I demand answers.

Batooni Batool from Burrewala:

Talk is extremely cheap for Batool. Something she initiates at ungodly hours.

Nadeedi Nichoo from Narowal:

She’ll eat anything. From the scrumptious carrot halwa your amma made just for you to the bricks in the wall. At the end of the day, she’ll whine about being hungry and leave you speechless.

Mehnati Mehwish from Mian Channu:

A diligent student who has the passion to excel but nobody said you should rob your roommates of decent sleep, Mehwish. It’s 4 a.m., there are no mid-terms but she’s preoccupied with studying the distinction between pronouncing ‘ch’ in chandelier and ‘ch’ in charisma. It is a miracle I haven’t wiped this kind off the face of Earth.

Gradually I realised that living in solitude would be a saner option. This is not to label each and every hostel resident as deranged, unhygienic or homicidal; I speak of my experience alone. Today I live in a relatively small room with visually-agonising pink drapes and enjoy some very interesting conversations with my astute coterie consisting of a door knob and four walls.

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